


Babies In The Sky

by Bam4Me



Series: Angel's Watching Over You [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean died when he was two and a half, First of a series, Gen, Kid Dean, Kid Fic, Later LATER fics will be Dean/Michael sort of, Later fics will have Mary and then john in them, after death fic, and Sam/Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 07:38:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8703469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bam4Me/pseuds/Bam4Me
Summary: [[THIS FIC IS SET IN HEAVEN IT IS MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH BUT NOT ANGSTY OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT DEAN IS DEAD BEFORE THE FIC EVEN STARTS!!!!!!!]]
Babies are good, it's in their nature to be. They're small and innocent and pure, even when they're born, fated to be evil, babies are pure and good. Michael thinks this might be a good thing; advert the apocalypse before it starts, and keep them innocent.





	

**Author's Note:**

> gayerthancanon.tumblr.com

When babies die, they go to heaven. It’s automatic, there’s no such thing as a bad child, all souls are good from the start. When a baby dies, they go to heaven.

 

Of course, they’re still babies, some of them grow up in heaven, but some don’t. All of them, though, need a guardian. They’re  _ babies _ , you can’t just leave them alone, even if they don’t manage to hurt themselves, they don’t  _ understand _ why they’re all alone right now, they don’t like it, they don’t feel right, everything is wrong. As long as they’re alone, they usually don’t cope very well.

 

That’s why Father created the nursery angels, to take care of them and watch most of them till they either grow up, or their soulmate dies and is willing to take care of them. Of course, many soulmates don’t make it to heaven at all. Sometimes, soulmates both die as babies and need taking care of.

 

Of course, mortals tend to have the idea that angels are made when humans go to heaven. That’s not true, angels are a different species entirely. Of course, there was no one set way that things can go when a mortal dies, all humans were different, and all of them had their own way of doing things.

 

Nursery angels took care of the babies till they were either ready to be left alone, or find a better way.

 

Michael would just like to point out right now, that he’s  _ not _ a nursery angel, please and thank you.

 

Of course, when he heard that Dean Winchester, two and a half years old, had died of a childhood fever… Michael hadn’t been able to stay away.

 

He was small… well, he’d never be the sword of Michael now; Michael should just turn around and leave him with the nursery angels. He would be better off with them anyways. He had plans that he needed to fix now that his main one is done for. Maybe he’d have to resurrect the baby himself…

 

No, they were already having his funeral, that would be bad. Of course, he could resurrect him anyways, whisk the little boy away to be raised without his parents at all. That could turn messy if he ever ran into them though, maybe he wouldn’t stand for it at all.

 

Well… it would stop the apocalypse before it even started, without the Righteous Man, no one would break the first seal.

 

His plan was to step into Dean’s heaven and figure out who was taking care of the little boy until his brother was born and dead, but he had to stop, when he caught sight of the small boy, screaming his head off while he hid behind a shelf in what looked like the Winchester’s house, occasionally poking his head out to throw a wooden block from the pile at the unimpressed looking nursery angel in charge of him.

 

Michael came to stand next to the angel with a frown on his face. He wasn’t in a vessel right now, but he looked Dean’s grandfather, a man he’d never met after he went missing when John was a child.

 

Not even the angels could find him, he was truly, wiped off the plain of their existence. A shame, since John had grown up thinking his father had abandoned him.

 

“Why’s he screaming?”

 

“He thinks we’ve kidnapped him. It happens sometimes, but with babies this young, we don’t normally get such an angry reaction.”

 

Michael’s nose twisted up and he winced at a particularly loud scream. “I thought two year olds threw tantrums all the time?”

 

“Yeah, but normally, they can tell we’re not human, and want to know what we are. He thinks he’s been kidnapped by monsters.”

 

“Well, you can’t really blame him, his parents are both hunters.”

 

The angel -Heln or something, Michael can’t really be bothered to remember, they weren’t from the same garrison- gave him an odd look for a few seconds before lighting up, as if suddenly realizing who he was. “Oh bless, you’re here to claim the demon baby! Okay, he’s very confused about where he is right now, but seeing you should calm him down, of course, he’d be more calm with his soulmate, but his soulmate isn’t exactly born yet; either way, he should respond to you. Once he’s calmed down, he should be easy to talk to, I’ll leave you to that, thanks for helping, bye!”

 

The nursery angel left without another word, before Michael could protest and Michael was left gaping at the spot where he’d been before a wooden block collided with the side of his face, making him jump. 

 

He looked down to where Dean was standing, still armed with blocks in either of his little chubby hands, but giving Michael a curious look, like he was maybe possibly debating whether or not to keep throwing things at him. Michael held back a wince at the way the baby was holding another block threateningly, as if about to throw it, and decided for a different tactic.

 

“Put those blocks down right now, you’ll not be throwing anything.”

 

Dean thought about that for a few seconds, sucking his pouting lower lip into his mouth in thought.

 

And then he threw another block at Michael’s head. He had amazing aim.

 

Michael blinked in shock, and looked back down at the little boy, who looked almost smug at not doing what he was told.

 

Michael tried to find him annoying, really, he did, but all he knew is that this little boy, the boy that was supposed to be his vessel, has a  _ lot _ of fight to him, and that’s amazing. He kept the stern look on his face though, and uncrossed his arms, reaching down and pulling the remaining blocks out of his hands before he scooped the little angry toddler up into his arms. He was easy to manipulate with the surprise of being moved. “You are a pest.”

 

Dean’s little lower lip jutted out of his mouth again, and wobbled, tears welling up in big green eyes. It almost made Michael regret scolding him. Almost.

 

Alright… he felt horrible for making the baby cry, but he needed to learn not to throw things. He put one hand on Dean’s little back, and started swaying in place with him, like he’s seen the other nursery angels do with crying children before. Dean seemed surprised at the motion and looked around in shock, tears starting to dry up already.

 

“What are you?”

 

That, wasn’t an unusual question for children to ask angels, since a lot of small children could. Michael shifted his hold on the little boy, laying him out more comfortably against his chest while he moved to go sit at the couch a few feet behind them. Dean seemed pleased at the new setting, but happy to stay in Michael’s lap.

 

“I’m an angel, Dean. Your angel.”

 

Well, until he could drop the baby off with someone that was better at this, but that might take a bit. Besides, it wasn’t exactly a lie, he  _ was _ the angel for Dean.

 

Dean sat back against Michael’s arm, facing his stomach with his little legs in front of him. He was wearing blue footie pajamas with stars and moons on them. Oh, he was so small and sweet looking, it felt like Michael’s insides were turning into mush.

 

“Does Mommy know you’re here?”

 

Michael looked into the little boy’s mind and found a memory of his mother telling him angels were looking over him.

 

He leaned ran his hand up and down Dean’s back again. “I bet, she likely does.”

 

“Oh.”

 

***

 

There was a lot of crying at first.

 

A few times, Michael thought about asking the nursery angels to come back, demanding they take Dean because he wouldn’t be the one to keep him.

 

He’d look down at that little chubby face, and he wouldn’t be able to do it. It was like he felt a stab in his chest every time he got close.

 

No one ever told him, that babies in heaven have no concept of… well, anything, to be completely honest…

 

Dean needed the same care as he did back on Earth. No wonder there was a need for nursery angels.

 

He was young enough to need at least one nap a day -or he’d be a cranky surly mess by the end of it- and needed help cleaning himself up as well.

 

But still, there was a lot of crying. He missed his parents, and Michael never rubbed his belly right after a bath, according to the boy, and he wanted a cat.

 

Michael had absolutely  _ no _ idea how to take care of a baby. This was turning out well.

 

You know, in all this time, Michael has never taken the time to sit down and read a book. Why should he? He’s an angel, surely a human made book can’t teach him anything, right?

 

That is, until he found books on parenting. He’s read five of them just today while Dean was taking a nap. This one was titled ‘parenting a child after they’ve lost their parents’. Michael rather thinks it’s the other way around, he’s trying to parent a child after he’s died and his parents moved on without him.

 

Hmm… there are many cases of child ghosts on Earth, maybe someone has a book on how to parent a long dead ghost.

 

He heard Dean start to fuss upstairs in his room, waking up, and got up, setting the book back down so he could get to the sleepy boy before he starts calling for him. Or worse; for his mom and dad. It’s happened more than a few times upon waking up, and it always hurts to hear it.

 

Thank goodness for angelic hearing giving him an advantage in that.

 

He got into the bedroom just in time to see the boy sitting up in the bed, rubbing at his eyes with a little fisted hand. When he saw Michael, he raised one hand towards him in a silent demand to be picked up. Naps always means getting cuddles after, or someone would throw a fit.

 

That’s okay, because Michael has found, that having Dean in his arms, was more than nice, in fact, he really didn’t mind at all.

 

***

 

Dean likes this not-home place. It looked exactly like his home, but it obviously wasn’t, cause Mommy and Daddy weren’t there, and it felt wrong, but the new angel Michael took care of him, and hasn’t hurt him once, so he’s okay here.

 

Michael seemed to be even better at knowing what he needs than Mommy did… where is Mommy?

 

Dean looked around at the living room for a minute, slow and watchful while he sucked on the pacifier that Michael had given him upon waking up that afternoon, saying that little boys should use pacifiers and not fingers, so they didn’t get sick. Dean doesn’t think he’ll get sick, he feels fine here.

 

His observation of the room stopped when he landed on Michael, who was looking at him with that even gaze that he always did, not taking his eyes off the baby in case he possibly needed something from him.

 

Dean cocked his head to the side, and inquired with a little mumble around his pacifier -which is okay, cause Michael can understand even if he doesn’t actually speak it seems,- “Mommy?”

 

Michael gave him a little shake of his head, smiling a little tense. “She’s not here right now, Dean.”

 

Oh.

 

Dean sighed, and looked back down at his play blocks, going back to stacking them in a tower formation. He looked back up at Michael after another minute of playing, and held one out to the sour looking angel. Maybe this will make him feel better?

 

“Play?”

 

The angel looked lost for a second, before getting off the couch with more confidence than he felt. It was awkward, being so much bigger than the little boy, and he had to fold himself down into a lotus position, but the baby didn’t seem to mind, shoving a blue car shaped block into his hand as he settled. Michael had no idea what to do with this.

 

He let out a little, human sounding sigh, and followed Dean’s lead on this, sure that he would know what to do with it.

 

This was going to be an odd new thing, but Michael can’t really bear the thought of leaving him at the moment.

 

Dean’s okay with that. He might cry if his big angel left him, even if he was a bit stiffly and didn’t let him stay up past bedtime. He had big pretty wings, and they felt nice to play with while he was falling asleep. Sometimes, when Dean was upset, Michael would hold him and the wings would go around both of them, and he’s never felt so warm in his life. It’s amazing.

 

***

 

Dean looked out the front window of his home a lot.

 

At first, Michael assumed he was waiting for someone -his parents- to come home, but after a while, Michael realized, that while the baby was waiting for them, he wasn’t watching for them to come home.

 

Dean had taken to playing near the front door though, as if he was waiting for something. It’s been two weeks.

 

Dean came into the kitchen when Michael called him in for breakfast that morning, seemingly upset. “What is wrong, Dean?”

 

Dean let Michael pick him up to put on the booster seat at the table, too little to do it himself, and tuck the bib around his neck to keep him mostly clean.

 

“It’s, it’s, it’s last, right?”

 

Sometimes Dean’s words made absolutely no sense at all, like, none. Thankfully, Michael felt no issue with reading his thoughts.

 

The chances of Dean growing up, even in heaven, were pretty heavily weighted against him; having a caregivers who knew what he needed, when he needed it, would be very helpful to him. Besides, you don’t really get a  _ last day _ of being dead -well, some hunters do…- and so Michael needed a little help with that one.

 

He furrowed his eyebrows, watching the little boy use a plastic fork to clumsily get a piece of sausage into his mouth, chewing with a happy humming noise. Of course, Dean loved food. “Saturday?”

 

That’s the closest thing he could find to that in Dean’s head. His parents probably taught him that Saturday was the last day of the week.

 

Dean nodded, cheeks puffed out a little bit with egg now. “Yeah! Park now?”

 

He wasn’t exactly the greatest of conversationalists, Michael needs to teach him some new words. He doesn’t really speak more than a few at a time.

 

“Park… Mommy took you to the park on Saturdays?”

 

Dean nodded, happily making his way through buttered toast with an enthusiasm that only a toddler who  _ truly _ loved eating could. Dean loves his food. He’d probably be more upset if he couldn’t have food than if he didn’t get to go to the park today.

 

Michael thought about that for a moment, before finally nodding to the waiting -and eating, always eating- baby. He’s pretty sure that he can get Dean’s heaven to extend to the park that was laid two blocks away, the one his mother took him to every Saturday.

 

It might comfort him a little bit to be able to get back into his old routine.

 

“Alright. After breakfast we’ll go get dressed and ready to go.”

 

Dean nodded, still humming around a mouth full of too much food.

 

When he was finished, Michael had found a slightly rickety looking stroller in the closet of the front hallway. That didn’t look safe. Nothing a little angel’s touch couldn’t handle.

 

The resulting stroller was much safer looking, and perfectly equipped -see;  _ overly _ equipped- for the slight chill in the air outside. He wasn’t sure why Dean’s heaven was cold, but it had been a bit cold when he’d died, so maybe he didn’t know that he could make it warmer.

 

That was a thought for another time, though.

 

He frowned though, when he had to clean the baby off with a warm washcloth, wondering if this is the actual reason that babies in heaven need a nursery angel. It’s not just because they don’t do well alone, they honestly don’t understand that they’re not alive anymore. Dean could clean himself up if he wanted to. He could change his age, gender, environment, pretty much everything. He doesn’t need sleep or food, and yet…

 

Dean squirmed under the onslaught of warm washcloth,  _ not _ appreciating that,  _ thank you very much, _ and glared at the amused angel when he pulled back. That’s not nice, Dean is entirely offended, thanks.

 

“Come on, pidgeon, the park awaits us.” Well, sort of. The park can wait forever if they wanted it to, but it’s one of those things that humans say… he thinks? Maybe that’s not a saying yet.

 

Time is a confusing concept, he always tends to get it backwards.

 

Dean giggled when Michael reached down to take his hand, pushing the stroller out the door without putting him in it yet. Dean could walk for a bit. He’d probably let him nap on the way back in the stroller though.

 

“Notta bird.”

 

Michael smiled down at him, finding him far too endearing. “What’s wrong with being a bird?”

 

Dean smiled, watching his little feet -in his little shoes- crunch on a bright gold leaf on the ground. “Can’t fly.”

 

Michael thought about that. “I can fly.”

 

Dean looked up at him with consideration, eyes wise for his two and a half years of age. “Is bird?”

 

Michael shook his head. “I’m not a bird either. I’m an angel.”

 

Dean seemed to think that one over as well, but it honestly didn’t quite compute in his mind. Toddler’s minds were chaotic at best, and that wasn’t adding up properly. He turned back to watch the leaves crunch more as he walked.

 

“Swings feel like flying?”

 

Michael’s never been on a swing set, but he knows what they are. “I think so.”

 

Dean nodded, a determined look now. “Okay.”

 

That, seemed to be the end of that.

 

“Well, so this is where you’ve disappeared off to, brother.”

 

Gabriel was standing in the entrance to the park, looking amused as he watched his older brother lead the little boy in with one hand, hunched over so he could hold on.

 

“I don’t like what you’ve done with your hair. I liked the curls.”

 

Michael sighed, kneeling down next to the startled baby who was looking around the park now, probably surprised that no one else was here. “Not that I’m upset, but why are you here, Gabriel?”

 

Gabriel shrugged. “You upset the cherubs. They said someone was tampering with a heaven, and when they found out who it was, no one else wanted to come check up on you. You scare them.”

 

“Who dat?”

 

Dean pointed a little finger up at Gabriel, chewing thoughtfully on the sleeve of his other hand.

 

“That’s my younger brother, Gabriel.”

 

Dean nodded. “Oh. Swings?”

 

Michael nodded, lifting up the boy so he could put him in the toddler sized swing, and grinned when Dean immediately started kicking his legs to try going. He gave the boy a little push in it, listening to the way he started giggling again. It was sweet.

 

“So, you got the pleasure of coming to see what I was up to? I don’t see the issue in it, people change their heavens all the time, I thought?”

 

Gabriel shook his head. “Not like this, no. People can  _ change _ their heavens, but not  _ expand _ them, which is what you did. No actual issue with it, but they were wondering what you were up to.”

 

Michael shrugged himself. “Well, Dean wanted to go to the park.”

 

“So, that really is him, isn’t it? Dean; your vessel.”

 

Michael nodded. “Yeah, this was never how things were supposed to go. It’s for the best, I guess. Not like the apocalypse can happen with him up here anyways.”

 

“I don’t know about that. The universe always has a way of righting its wrongs. If father meant for it to happen, it will.”

 

Michael would have once said that it didn’t matter, he was ready for it to happen if it had to… but, looking at that sweet boy, giggling in a swing set… he didn’t want to drag Dean into that. He hopes he’s right, and it didn’t come to it, because he’s not sure if he’d make the same decision as before.

 

“Well, I hope it doesn’t. He’s just a baby. He doesn’t deserve that.”

 

“No, he doesn’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> gayerthancanon.tumblr.com


End file.
